A Loveless Union
by Coretta
Summary: Separating them - it was what had put him on the path of the Dark. Separating them - it was Dumbledore's biggest mistake. ABANDONED FOR NOW.
1. Prologue

**|| A Loveless Union ||**

Written by _Coretta_

**|| Before you being reading ||**

There are a few things I should say before you start the story. If I continue this, it will be AU. I bet when you read the little summary, you thought Dumbledore would be separating Draco and Hermione, yeah? Well, haha. You're wrong, although I won't spill the beans on how. You'll figure it out at the end of this chappie, anyway. ;) I'm going to try and keep most of the characters as in-character as possible, but Hermione will have changes to her personality because of the nature of this story. Again, you'll find out what I mean at the end of the prologue.

I'm sorry, but I absolutely hate it when people urge me to update. A little note at the end saying 'please update soon, I'd love to read what's coming next!' would suffice. I really don't want to see any 'UPDATE NOW OR ELSE I WILL ADFLAJKDKFJSD BECAUSE I AM AN IMPATIENT GIT'. I update in my own time (I will always update, even if it takes 6 months to get a chapter out).

Praise and constructive criticism is always welcome! I'll never tire of trying to get better, but if you're going to just flame and flame but not offer advice, don't waste your time.

One last thing. As I don't have a beta and have to rely on myself for this, I'd really appreciate if you guys pointed out mistakes in grammar and spelling just at the end of your reviews, so I can go back and fix anything up.

Thank you guys! Hope you enjoy it. 3

**|| Prologue ||**

The sharp wail of a child pierces the air. Although he is only at the door of the orphanage, he can hear it quite clearly, and looking up, he sees that a window is open. A frown mars his wrinkled face as he watches the young auburn-haired woman jiggle a small boy on her hip. It is not from his mouth, however, that the sound emits from.

Beside this woman is another woman, blue-eyed and with faded blonde hair, looking far older than she should, another child being held in her arms. This one, he sees, is a girl, and the boy's twin, and already she has rich dark brown curls hanging over her face. It is she who is crying, and she reaches to smack her small fist into the face of her holder. As the little girl attempts to hurt the woman holding her, her brother watches silently, his face blank. The blonde sighs exasperatedly but makes no move to stop the violent gesture.

The auburn-haired woman has just seen him now, having happened to look down, and she says something to the blonde before she hurries back into the room, assumedly to put the boy down. He is glad, for seeing a child with such an emotionless expression is frightening, to say the least. If anything could convince him that what he is to do now is the right thing, it is that.

The door is opened, and the auburn-haired woman appears in the doorway, looking quite frazzled. "I'm sorry, sir," she says hurriedly, "I'm afraid I did not see you, and if you knocked, I had not heard that either. Hermione has quite the big voice."

He nods politely. "May I come in?"

"Oh, please do, sir," she replies, moving out of the way. She leads him to a room that looks like a small parlour, and gestures for him to take a seat, which he does. "Now, what brings you to the orphanage, sir?"

"Please, call me Albus," he says, and before she can reply, he continues. "I am looking for a child."

A crease between her eyebrows appear. "Is that so?" By the way she is appraising him, he can tell that she is taking in his aged appearance. "Well," she goes on hesitantly, "we have many children here for adoption, but I'm not sure what you're particularly looking for. If you like, I can-"

"I'm looking for two specific children, actually," Albus cuts in brusquely, and she falls silent. "Do you, by any chance, have a pair of twins born on the 31st of December, two years ago?"

Recognition lights up in her eyes, and her facial expression shows the barest hint of suspicion. "Tom and Hermione?" He can tell the children make her nervous. Storing away this reaction to peruse later, he nods. "I'm not sure you'd like them, sir, they're rather difficult."

His curiosity is piqued. "How so?"

"They do rather...unnerving things, sir." She blushes, embarrassed that two two-year-olds can affect her in such a way. "It is like their- their minds are connected, or something of the sort. They're so young though, I don't know how they come up with these devious plans of theirs." And despite her obvious anxiety about them, there is a small twinge of affection in her voice, something he also finds intriguing.

"What plans might these be?" he asks, his voice light.

"Oh, well, you know what children are like, I'm sure. During morning tea, they sit beside each other, looking as innocent as apple pie, when Tom bursts into tears. Naturally, one of us has to go and see what's wrong, and when our backs are turned, Hermione steals a cookie off her neighbour. Then she breaks it in half and they exchange little smirks, the devils."

Oh, he can see their future now right before his eyes. And one of these days, their crimes won't be as innocent as stealing shortbread from other children. Despair fills him, but he expects no less from these two children. Any child borne from as loveless a union as that of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle can surely not be good. He must put a stop to this.

He smiles. "They sound like the children I'm looking for. May I go see them?"

She nods, and motions for him to follow her. They move through halls of cluttered books in piles and toys strewn across the floor, and when two little children come rushing past, laughing and screaming, she sternly calls for them to stop running, but does not halt herself. They reach a set of old, wooden stairs that look as if they might give way any time, but she moves up them without pause.

A door on the left is set ajar, and she walks in, a slight smile on her face. "Mrs. Cole!"

The blonde woman he had seen earlier, carrying who he presumed had been Hermione, turns and nods at the two, no child on her person. "Amy, introduce me to your guest."

"Oh, how terribly rude of me!" Amy exclaims. "Mr. Albus, this is the matron of our orphanage, Mrs. Cole. Mrs. Cole, this is Mr. Albus. He was enquiring after Tom and Hermione."

"Is that so?" Mrs. Cole asks, eyes sharp, a fleeting look of distrust crossing her face. She glances at the two cots the closest to the window. "Why these two particular children, sir?"

It surprises him how defensive they are about the twins, something that does not sit well with him. If the twins can charm those around them at such a young age, it would surely become easier as time progressed. And, having heard and seen what he had today, it wasn't likely they would be charming for the sake of being charming. A thought crosses his mind. Slytherins through and through, these two seem to be.

"Their mother, Merope, entrusted them to me, should she pass away."

"Ah, Merope Riddle," Amy pipes up, tapping a finger on her chin. "Remember her, Mrs. Cole? Such a strange woman, seemed so lonely and sad, though."

Mrs. Cole nods. "The poor woman arrived in the middle of winter dressed in nothing but a thin dress. It was a wonder these two survived. She looked like she hadn't eaten for days. She gave birth to them in this orphanage, then passed. You say she left the twins to you?"

"Yes."

"You knew she was with child and yet you did nothing to help her?"

"I believed her husband was taking care of her."

This Mrs. Cole is a sharp one, he can tell, and her eyes narrow even further. He can tell she is about to call him out with a minor detail he has most likely missed in his cover story, and so, before she can say a word, his wand is suddenly in his hand and he is stunning the two women, ensuring they would not be damaged by using a cushioning charm. He does not approve of using magic against Muggles who are defenseless against it, but he must do this.

While they lie on the hard wooden floor, unconscious, he begins sorting through their memories and altering them. When they wake up, they will believe that he had given them a perfectly credible story. To add further evidence and erase all lines of doubt, he also conjures some Muggle adoption papers and pushes them into Mrs. Cole's hands. Then, he sets them up so that they are leaning against a wall and awakens them. Their eyes fly open, and they appear very confused. He feels sorry for the poor ladies.

Mrs. Cole is looking around, baffled, before she sees Albus and hurries towards him. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir! You wanted Hermione, didn't you? I- I must have dozed off or something of the sort, I'm getting old, it happens often." She ignores the other girl, Amy, who looks just as puzzled as she.

"That's quite alright," Albus nods, feeling guilty. "Will you allow me time to make acquaintance with her before I take her home?"

The matron nods back. "As you wish, sir." And then she hurries out of the door with Amy following, sending glances back at the old man and the two children.

When he is sure they are gone, he puts a silencing charm on the door to guarantee he will not be heard when he leaves. He will not be leaving through the front door.

If he could have taken both the children, he would have, but it would not do well to meddle too much. He is already doing enough as it is, with Hermione. He had said to the women that he would take both, as saying he would only take one would arouse too much disbelief with the story he had given them and they would not let him see them. The memories he had given them convinced them that he was only after Hermione, now. Only one would be leaving Wool's orphanage today.

"Hello, children."

He is now at the feet of the two cots, which have been placed side-by-side. The two children, who had been lying on their sides and staring at each other, now roll onto their backs to stare at him. He resists the urge to frown at them, and instead says, "You two are quite the trouble."

They do not say anything.

"I'm sorry, children, but I will have to separate you," he says. "Too much is at stake to keep you together. You may meet each other in the future-" he stops to consider the double meaning behind his words, "-but it is unlikely." He does not even know why he is explaining it to a pair of infants, but it seems right. Sighing, he reaches into the cot and takes Hermione gently. She is looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes, and Tom immediately makes a sound of protest. Albus shakes his head sadly as he watches Tom reach his small arms towards his twin sister. "I apologise."

A second later, he is gone, a loud crack signaling his departure.

Later on, when the two women come to check on Albus and see him gone, they assume he has already left with Hermione and that they had not heard, having been preoccupied with the other children.

Albus Dumbledore will never know how big a mistake this day was until it is too late.

**|| Author's note ||**

Hey everyone! This is my first Draco/Hermione fanfiction (yes, although it does not look like it, it will be). If you guys thought this was alright, let me know! I'll decide if I'll keep going if I can get some positive feedback. :) Also, just a heads-up that although this one is 3rd person, present tense, future chapters (again, if I decide to continue) will be 1st person, present tense.

Also, a note on what I said about Hermione having to change her personality. Well, (hopefully) you've already deduced that she is/will be Tom Marvolo Riddle's twin sister, and personally, I'm all up for her going Dark. :)

Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

Love, Coretta


	2. Chapter One

**|| A Loveless Union ||**

Written by _Coretta_

**|| Chapter 1 ||**

My name is Hermione Jean Granger. I'm eleven years old, and from the moment I turned nine, I knew I was adopted.

Being adopted doesn't change anything for me. My life hasn't altered significantly or anything since I found out, but sometimes I sit alone and wonder what my life could have been, had I been with my 'other' parents. My parents have no idea what happened to them, but I always assume that they must have died, or else why had I taken residence in an orphanage?

I love my parents a lot. It's just the three of us, in a slightly-larger-than-normal Victorian home in the middle of a no-nonsense suburb. There are some scary times when I feel like there must be another part of me that's missing, that I might not be able to continue without, and I ask my parents if I had a sibling of some sort before they took me away.

"Of course not," mum says, "else we'd have taken your sibling too!" She wouldn't be so cruel as to separate siblings, and she always wanted more children. Now, she says I'm enough for her.

Me being myself (and I have to admit, I've always been an inquisitive child), I dug further, and was quite suspicious to see that although they can shoot off random details about the adoption process and papers they endured to get me, they have no actual recollection of any day when they came to visit any orphanages.

Very suspicious, but I'm a kid, and I can't do any detective work, so I just accept it for what it was: an opportunity to live with caring parents and not in a horrible, little orphanage.

Anyway, all this thought about being adopted came up almost a year ago, because before then, I had never given it much consideration. On my 11th birthday, however, we got a knock on the door. I was very surprised, you see, because I had never had visitors on my birthday. My parents' relatives were all long gone, and I had no friends. They thought I was…strange.

"Who could that be?" I asked my dad, and he gave a shrug before walking over to the door and pulling it open. He jumped back in fright at what he saw, and I almost laughed, because standing on our doorstep was a very, very old man (ancient, he must have been) wearing the most outrageous garments I had ever seen. They looked to be some kind of bathrobe or something, and were dark purple and bright orange with big spots of blue mixed in.

My mum pulled me behind her.

"Who- who are you?" my father asked, regaining his sense of balance. He was glaring at the old man, I noticed.

When the man answered, his voice sounded like a dead frog. "I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school. I wish to speak to you, your wife and your daughter, Hermione."

"Like hell you are!" my dad shouted, and I gripped my mum's hand suddenly because that was the first time I had ever heard my dad swear. "I'm sorry, sir, but you have to leave now before I ring the authorities. We have no food to give you, but I know there is a homeless shelter a few blocks down."

There was a silence for a minute. "I am not a homeless man." His voice no longer sounded like a dead frog. It sounded like what I'd imagine a lion would sound like, could he talk. Deep, firm and overall, quite frightening. "I am a headmaster, and I have important matters to discuss with you and your wife. If you do not let me in now, I will have no choice but to pass up the opportunity for this…unique education for your daughter."

There was suddenly a rustle of papers, and then he was giving my father what looked like a bunch of parchment.

A few tense seconds passed, all of our eyes on my daddy, before he looked up, handed the parchment back to the strange man and said, his voice sounding far stiffer than I had ever heard, "Come in."

"Oh, Harold!" mum exclaimed, rushing forward to grab his arm. "You aren't seriously considering letting this…this odd man into our home! It's our daughter's birthday!"

At these words, while my father explained to my mother exactly _why_ he had let the man in (I couldn't hear because I was too far), the man turned his brilliant blue eyes on me and smiled, saying softly, "Happy birthday, Hermione." I felt like he was seeing right through me, down to every little wrong thing I had done, but I pasted a smile on my face. I decided that, since my dad had let him in, he couldn't be dangerous at all, and shyly approached him.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, giving him a small smile back. "Would you like me to get you some tea?" I tried to appear as charming as I could, for if he was offering me a special education, I thought I should act pleasant.

His eyes flashed with something that looked almost like anger, but when I blinked, it was gone. "No, that's quite alright, Hermione – may I call you that?" I nodded. "It is your birthday after all, and I don't wish that you serve others on this special day of yours."

I only nodded. "Can I at least lead you to a seat?" He consented, and I brought him to our living room. "Please, take any seat that you might like." He gave his thanks, and took a seat, quite steadily for a man who looked so old. I gave him a last glance, before returning to my parents. I realised they had finished talking already, and were waiting for me to come back to them.

"You're such a sweet-mannered child," mum praised softly, and I almost blushed. "Now, let us see what education this headmaster would like to offer you, shall we?"

After the man left, I felt like he somehow didn't like me much at all. I have no idea what gave me that impression, because he was incredibly polite the whole time.

He had offered me an education in magic. Yes, I know. I couldn't believe it as well, but apparently, I'm a witch. My parents were mad at the start, calling him a crazy old hatter. That was until he set the pot plant in the corner that I really hated on fire with a stick he called a wand. When he extinguished it, the pot plant was perfectly fine.

Needless to say, my parents were quite happy to have a witch in the family.

"Now you can help clean the house sometimes," mum joked, and I rolled my eyes. My dad was more ecstatic than my mum, having mighty dreams of me building us a big house from the ground with just a wand. I rolled my eyes at that, too.

After the initial shock of that birthday surprise had passed, questions began popping up in my mind. What if I had inherited this ability from my real – no, _biological _– parents? He hadn't said anything about it, only mentioning what purebloods, halfbloods and muggleborns were in passing, so I naturally assumed I was a muggleborn. The curiosity didn't stop there, though, and I began wondering if maybe, just maybe, I might actually be a pureblood or a halfblood. I resolved to ask the Potions or Charms professors about anything that could help me do find out as soon as I arrived at Hogwarts.

We went to get my school things right away after that, having arranged for the man (who we found out was actually named Dumbledore – strange that his last name means _bumblebee_, isn't it?) to take us where we needed to go. He was amused that I wanted to get such a head start on all my studies.

We were brought to a place called Diagon Alley, and…wow. That was one of the most magical experiences of my life, pun not intended. There were heaps of people, all wearing the same clothing as Dumbledore, and owls and magic books and a wand shop. The wand shop was the best part, but I was unnerved when the wandmaker, Ollivander, gave me a searching look. He seemed to recognise me, although I have no idea how.

After I got the wand ("10 ¾ inches, vine, with a core of dragon heartstring" – according to Ollivander), Dumbledore brought us back home, leaving with a warning not to use the wand before school started unless I wanted to get a letter from the Ministry of Magic, and a hope to see me in full health the next year.

Now, here I am. I'm in the car on the way to King's Cross, where I have to look for platform 9 and 3/4. A strange destination, and I'm not sure I'll even find it, but I reason that maybe I'll see some other magical people who can tell me where to go.

We park the car, and my dad takes out the luggage trolley from the boot. I've got a big trunk, and even he can hardly lift it. It's filled with all my clothes, books and all the stuff from home I wanted to bring, because I'm sure I'll get homesick.

"Do you need help, dear?" mum asks dad, and as expected, he shakes his head and gives a grunt. My mother and I exchange a glance.

Once dad manages to put my trunk in the trolley, we make our way to the station. I'm surprised at how packed it is. There are people bustling everywhere, and more than few mothers and children bump into my trolley, apologizing profusely.

I see my first magical person – or rather, family – near platform 9. It's a woman, a man and their son, who looks my age. They're all wearing robes (of expensive material, I might add) and they're all absolutely beautiful, in a haunting way. The man and his son have white-blonde hair, and the mother has strawberry blonde. They are walking in front of us, and I look at my parents to ask their permission. When they nod, I hand the trolley's handles to my father and hurry over to the family.

"Um, excuse me?" I ask, voice slightly timid. The boy is the first to turn, and as soon as he sees me, a sneer overcomes his face. I'm taken aback, and before I can say anything, he says, "What do you want, Muggle?"

"Now, now, Draco," the father says, his voice a smooth drawl that gives me the chills. "Do not be rude to the lesser people. They all have their place in the world." Yet, he gives me a sneer, as well. I can tell they're not the kind of people I want to associate with, but plough on ahead.

"Yes, well, I was wondering if you could tell me where I might be able to find platform 9 and ¾?"

Another sneer, before he says, his voice full of disdain, "Follow the redheads." His gaze moves to the left, and I follow his gaze to see a whole family of gingers.

He couldn't have just _told_ me where to go?

When I look back at him, I see he is gazing at me intently, in the same searching way Ollivander had. I am about to say something, when he looks away and says something very quietly. The whole family turns their noses up at me, and then they're moving away. I frown, upset at the encounter.

I've already deduced a reason as to why they talked to me like that. I think it's because I'm muggleborn.

I walk back to my parents, who had been watching from a little farther away. "We're to follow those redheads," I tell my parents, and my voice is slightly flat. My mum looks worried.

"What's wrong, darling?" She reaches out and pulls me to her. "Did they say something bad to you?"

"No," I reply, not knowing why I lied, "I just wanted to talk to them longer, but they needed to go somewhere." It's a feeble excuse, and I know it. My parents do too, but they only look at each other for a split second.

"Well, let's go before the family disappears, shall we?"

We reach them while they're lecturing their children (there's five of them!) for being too noisy and reckless. They're standing beside a blank wall, all of them with trunks and luggage trolleys, and by the looks of it, three of them have already been to Hogwarts before. There's one boy who looks my age, and he's currently being wiped off by his mother. I notice that the state of their clothing is quite worn out.

"-oodness, Ronald! You'd think that you can give your child a chocolate frog before he leaves for his first year at Hogwarts, and he'd be fine! But no, my son has to smear it all over his face and his clothing. _Why_ can't you eat neatly, like dear Ginny over there?" The only girl goes red when she sees me. They look more like the type of people I'd like.

"Excuse me?" my mum inquires towards the redheaded mother, tapping her gently on the shoulder. "Would you kindly inform us of the whereabouts of this…platform 9 and ¾?"

Before she can reply, her husband beams at us and says, "Oh, but you're Muggles! Of course we'll help you! Won't we, Molly?" He winks at his wife, who is giving him a dark look that clearly says 'don't say it, don't say it'. He ignores it, and says, in a lowered voice, "If you could just tell me – what is a fellytone?"

My parents and I laugh, although I can hear my parents are slightly anxious to be asked such a strange question, and I hear 'Molly' hissing to him, "I told you not to ask!"

"It is something used for communication," I reply, "so you might speak with people far away from you."

"Like the Floo?" he muses, and I have no idea what that is, so I go along with it. "Ah, well, thank you, dear. Now, shall we get to the platform?"

He instructs us all to back away, before gesturing to his eldest son to come forward. I'm startled when he begins running towards the blank wall.

"Oh no, what are you doing? Stop!" my mum cries. My father and I are just staring with our jaws dropped, because to our astonishment, he disappears through the wall.

"It's quite alright," his father assures us, "you just run and go right through to the platform on the other side!" We watch as twins go through as well, one after the other, then the boy who looks my age. The little girl, Ginny, looks upset, and I can only guess it's because she can't go to Hogwarts herself.

"Next year, darling, next year," her mother reassures her, and her husband tells me it's my turn. I look up at my parents and try for a grin, but I'm quite worried, even after seeing the others go right through.

"Love you, mum and dad," I whisper, pecking them each on the cheek. "See you on the other side."

I take a deep breath, and then I'm running, and then I can't stop myself even if I want to, and then I'm through…and I almost crash into the boy my age from the redhead family.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" he yelps.

"I'm sorry!" I squeak, my heartbeat still beating rapidly.

"Yes, well…"

He's interrupted by mine and his parents going through the barrier.

"It was nice to meet you Muggles!" his father says to us, and we return the sentiment. Then they are walking down the platform, away from us.

"Oh, look at the time!" I say suddenly, my gaze on the big clock in the middle of the platform. "The train will be leaving soon!"

"Alright," mum says, "be good. Write to us everyday, don't do anything naughty and do good at your studies, alright, darling?"

"And no boys," dad says firmly, and I laugh.

"Of course not, daddy."

We exchange hugs and kisses and then I'm leaving them. I can see my mum shedding some tears, and I can understand. I've never been to a boarding school in my life.

I enter the train, and it soon starts moving.

**|| Author's Note ||**

And they're off to magical beasts and magical feasts! Nothing much exciting here, but I figured Hermione needed an introduction first before we got to the good stuff. What did you think about those creepy gazes from Ollivander and Lucius? And our first encounter with Draco?

The train ride, some meetings and the Sorting will be next chapter.

Love, Coretta


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